OGENUS EARTH 🌎 🌊 {Dystopian Sci-Fi Adventure}

Skin and Bones

For hours Meg watched a solid line of bots rumble over the belts behind the frosted glass of the service station, all she needed to do was monitor their status.

Tinkers, while remarkably handy, were rarely tasked with more than menial duties. This bot-bath was no exception. Once through their chemical shower, the bots went into the air blaster for a final buff, and then, Meg would switch them back on (for something to do).

Between cycles, she reclined on her humble throne to pick at her banjo, nodding in time to the tune. The vibrations from the metal barrel wrapped around her skeleton, burrowing into the muscle fibers surrounding the bone to tell Meg that she was on key. 

It wasn't until the bot was nearly on top of her feet that she leaped out of her chair with a start, clutching her banjo in front of her like some sort of artifice. She recognized it right away as MAX, the constant companion of Arturo, a man she'd only seen pictures of.

MAX scanned Meg's figure quickly and extended two spindly metal arms to gesture its apology. They had passed each other quite a bit in the hallways of the Harmony building over the years. The bot's initiative to download a sign language program in order to communicate with her (without audibly identifying her 'defect') touched Meg immediately.

'That's all right,' Meg motioned back with a smile, mimicking the formal language patterns it was using. 'What are you doing all the way down here?'

The bot did not answer right away. Instead, it cast its sensors around his globular head to scan the rest of the Tinker's quarters. When it was satisfied, the bot's head swiveled back around to face her.

'I've come for an early cleaning if there is room for me?' MAX signed dutifully. 

MAX was utilizing Old-American Sign Language and it was like speaking two dialects at once. Meg translated dutifully in her head as she and Ben used a bastardized version of that at home.

Most humans aboard the Arc Cities spoke a modernized version of English that incorporated popularized slang from other prevalent world languages. Globalization on old Earth had solved most of mankind's linguistic barriers. Back then, the generalization of language seemed a necessary step to closing the massive cultural divides that plagued those doomed civilizations.

Meg shook her head, happy to oblige the friendly bot. 

Logically she knew that no bot had been programmed with any sort of emotional learning capabilities, they simply reflected the tone and temper of the individual they were communicating with. It was nice to have someone, or something, in this case, that treated her like a human being.

'You're scheduled for a cleaning tomorrow, might as well have it now.' Meg gesticulated, mouthing the words in case it was watching her lips.

'Yes, that would make good use of my time,' MAX was sure to complete its reply before rolling over to the belt.

Meg paused production, allowing MAX to get in the assembly line. Once on the belt, the bot deactivated on the magnetic pad and coasted.

Meg didn't play her instrument while she waited for MAX's turn to finish. Instead, she mulled over the coincidence of two seemingly random abnormalities occurring on the same day. 

Within ten minutes, MAX was done and she was stooping to power the bot back up.

As the oldest bots on the Arc Cities, MAX was practically an antique. His chromed exterior gleamed through the myriad of scratches and dents it had received over the years. Its front panel powered up first, signaling that it was back online.